


The Telephone Game

by Robotamputee



Category: Young Wizards - Diane Duane
Genre: Date Night, F/M, Gen, Louise - Freeform, epic disasters, poor Nita, somebody give her an Advil and a headrub, the mystery is solved!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1875366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robotamputee/pseuds/Robotamputee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Nita wants is <i>one date</i> with Kit where they don't get swept up into something to do with wizardry. Also, to finally get to the bottom of who told Carmela about her middle name. But it's starting to look like all she's gonna have when this is all over is a headache.</p><p>Spoilers through AWoM, though only vague ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Telephone Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Birke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birke/gifts).



> I know your prompt said not to give Carmela much airtime, and I swear she wasn't in it at all when I started, but then I realised I had to have the scene at the beginning to kick off the rest of it, so there you go. Hope it's to your liking, anyway :)

“This is never going to work.” Nita's chin is in her hands as she watches Kit tie his shoes.

“C'mon Neets, don't be such a pessimist. It's not gonna happen this time.”

Nita glares at him. “I'm not being a pessimist, Kit, I'm being a realist. I'm learning from the past.”

Kit straightens and goes to lean against the back of the couch to look at Nita. “Look, we don't have any pending assignments, all our previous projects are wrapped up, _neither_ of us are on active status, which I know, because I checked right before you got here. None of our friends even have anything major going on.”

“Except Filif.”

Kit rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but he's out of our catchment area.”

A snort. “For now.”

Kit blinks at her. “Do you _want_ to sabotage tonight? Because the way you're talking, Neets, it's starting to sound prophetic.”

Nita groans. “No, I don't want to sabotage tonight. I'm just sick and tired of our free time and attempts at a social life being decimated at every turn.”

“Decimated means—”

“To destroy one tenth of, I know, I just say it to make you squirm.” Kit glowers at her, but Nita ignores him. “My point is I don't entirely trust Life not to throw us a curve-ball while we're out.”

“Me neither, which is why I'm leaving my manual here.”

A pause. “You're what?”

“Leaving it here. Not a single piece of wizardry tonight, within reason. No thinking about the construction of spells or talking to inanimate objects--”

“--but you always talk the train out of shaking when we go downtown so it's not so hard to stand.”

“Well, not tonight. We'll find seats.”

Nita sighs, leveraging herself off the couch and turning to face Kit on the other side. “I see your point, anyway. A night off the grid sounds fantastic.”

“You bet it does. And besides, if something major did come up, it's not like it's hard to send for my manual anyway. It's the symbolism of the act.”

Nita rolls her eyes and says nothing.

Kit walks over and puts his hands on Nita's arms. “So, what d'you say? Wanna live like muggles for the night?”

A smile, small. “A completely inaccurate analogy.”

“And you say I'm the pedant in this relationship,” Kit says, leaning in for a kiss.

Footsteps in the kitchen, then a whistle. Kit and Nita turn to see Carmela in the doorway, hands on hips, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. They both give her a look then pointedly kiss in front of her. Graphically. Carmela gags.

“Ugh, fine, having to watch you two mack on each other takes all the fun out of teasing you. I surrender.”

They break apart, and Nita spots a crease in Kit's brow before he turns his head to his sister. “What do you want, 'Mela?”

“Mama just got home with the groceries,” Carmela explains, all innocence, “and she was wondering if you could help her bring them in before you go.”

Kit groans. “It begins already.”

Nita laughs, jiggling his arm a bit. “It's not wizardry, Kit, just some heavy lifting.”

“Which I wouldn't even have to do if I used wizardry.”

“No. We're muggles tonight, remember? Besides, do that too often and you'll get flabby.”

“Flabbi _er_ , you mean.”

“Shut up, 'Mela.”

Kit leaves. Carmela lingers. Nita takes the opportunity to glance in a mirror and check her hair.

“So what's the plan for tonight, The Cheese Louise?”

“Oh my _god_ , don't _call me that_.”

Carmela puts up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, I get the message. No teasing about the boyfriend _or_ the middle name. Someone sure is touchy.”

“I'm not touchy, I'm just...”

“What?”

“Nervous.”

“What about?”

Nita hesitates. “Tonight. I feel like it's not going to turn out well. We haven't had a proper date in _weeks_.” She hears Kit open the front door, then call out to his mama still in her car.

Carmela considers. “Is that a Feeling, or just a feeling?”

Nita groans. “I don't even wanna _think_ about it, in case it's the first. It's probably just my own anxiety.”

Carmela shrugs. “It's not like you two don't see enough of each other.”

“No, but it's different.” Nita toys at her skirt, twisting it around so it lies straight. “When we're on the job, we're partners. We have to stay focused, be professional.”

“No room for lovey-dovey make-out sessions, I guess.”

Nita blushes. “No, not really.” She hears Kit come thumping back inside, then sees him walk by the living room laden down with half a dozen shopping bags.

Carmela nods. “I get it. You've gotta separate your professional and personal relationships so they both work, but it feels like at the end of the day it's all professional and no personal.”

Nita nods.

“Is that why you said you two are muggles tonight?”

Nita nods again.

“Well, it's a start, anyway. Good luck, _Miss Louisiana_.”

Nita groans, letting go of her skirt to rub her face. “Oh, come _on_ , we were having a moment.”

Carmela blinks, feigns a look of innocence. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Kit returns, arms free of groceries. “Done. Let's get outta here before the roof caves in and I'm press-ganged into fixing it, _the muggle way_.”

Nita grimaces, still smarting from the nickname. Carmela grins and claps her hands together with malice.

“'Kay kids, remember to stay safe!”

—A chorus of “Yeah, course we will”—

“Always use protection!”

Kit and Nita go beet red. Kit grits his teeth and rounds on his sister. “'Mela? _Out._ ”

Carmela flounces away, cackling.

They take a moment to collect themselves, then turn to each other. “Well, you ready to go?”

“God, yes.”

They leave, quickly.

 

\---

 

“He didn't even _think_ to ask them what was in it?”

“Nope. He just started wolfing it down.”

Nita snorts, sucking at the straw of her bubble tea and vacuuming up a few of the tapioca pearls swimming around the last of her slush. They're in a cozily-shabby Tea House on the outskirts of Chinatown, sitting in the window and finishing off their drinks. Nita ordered a coconut slush, Kit a lychee green tea. He's in near hysterics as he tells his story, hunched over the table with his drink in his hands.

“He didn't even get two bites in before he noticed the taste.”

“I bet that caught him off guard.”

“His face went so red I swear I saw _steam_ coming off it.”

“How hot did you say their peppers are?” Nita's still fishing around in her cup for the last few pearls. There always seems to be some left over after her drink's gone.

Kit sits up and wipes his eyes. “On the Scoville scale? About a million. And that's _mild_ to them.”

Nita winces, shaking her head. “Poor guy.”

Kit nods, still chuckling. “Yeah, well, you should've seen the look on the waiter's face. They couldn't tell if the choking was a sign of appreciation or physical illness.”

“I would've liked to have seen the look on Darryl's face afterwards.”

Kit reaches into his pocket. “Now that you mention it...”

Nita blinks. “You took a picture, didn't you?”

Kit grins, tapping his phone to life. A second later he holds it up for her to see.

Nita takes one look and dissolves into hysterics. “He needs to make that his profile picture somewhere.”

Kit laughs. “He needs to get it on his _passport_.” He tucks his phone back in his pocket, then grabs his drink. “It's the last time he'll ever eat without asking what it is first, anyway.”

“I'll bet.”

They ease into a merry silence, broken only by the slurping sounds Nita makes as she sucks up the last of her pearls. Kit leans over to toss his empty cup into a garbage can, then settles back in his chair, looking at Nita. Nita blinks, puts her own, now empty, cup down.

“What?”

“Just thinking about before we left.”

“What, the muggle thing? You're not regretting it I hope.”

Kit shakes his head. “No, I mean when I came back after putting away the groceries. It looked like Carmela had just bad-mouthed your favourite book or something.”

Nita scowls. “Close. She still insists on using my middle name against me at every given opportunity.”

Kit quirks an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, and now she's getting _creative_. What was it she called me...” Nita leans over the table to toss her

cup away. “'The Cheese Louise'and 'Miss Louisiana'.”

Kit snorts. “Nice.”

“And I still don't even know _how_ she found out about it.”

Kit shrugs, tilting his chair back to rest on its back legs. “With Carmela? Could be anything. She could've gotten it from the One Itself for all we know.”

Nita hums her agreement. Kit looks thoughtful for a moment. “Sounds like something Darryl would think up, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“The nicknames. ' _Miss Louisiana_ ', especially. Sounds like one of Darryl's creations.”

Nita considers this. “God, it does. You don't think she's been spreading it around, do you?”

Kit shakes his head. “Nah, you were pretty non-negotiable when you demanded she not tell anyone about it.”

“Then what?”

Kit shrugs. “Maybe she got it from him?”

Nita blinks, confused. “How would he have gotten it then? He has even less cause to figure it out than she does.”

“That I don't know.”

Nita's looking off into space now, deep in thought. “It would explain the nicknames...”

Kit kicks back his chair and stands up to stretch. “Then ask him. Worst that can happen is he has no idea what you're talking about.”

Nita gets up too, pushes her chair in. “True.”

Kit reaches into one of his back pockets, the one that usually feeds into his otherspace pocket. Then he starts and takes his hand out. “I forgot—no manual.”

“It's fine,” Nita says, shaking her head, “we're on sabbatical anyway. I can ask him when I get home.”

Kit nods, then gestures for her to lead the way. They head out of the tea house and into the sweltering June heat.

And run right into a small fluffy white Persian cat sitting on the sidewalk and cleaning itself.

“Oh jeez, sorry about that!”

The cat's eyes widen, then it stands up and shakes itself. “Oh good, a human. Just the creature I need.”

Nita and Kit share a look, utterly bemused.

“Do you have a problem?” Kit asks.

The cat flicks its tail. “A bit of one. We just had an unauthorized activation at one of our gates, but the thing that came through appears to be deathly allergic to cats. It refuses to go anywhere _near_ us, let alone tells us who it is or where it's from. We've got it detained for now, but it's costing us a lot of attention and energy to keep it that way, and we need to make sure there are no vulnerabilities in the gate that someone else could exploit.”

_I hate being right,_ Nita says to Kit privately. Kit glances at her and grimaces. “We can try to help out the best we can.”  _This'll only take a minute,_ he says to her,  _then we can get on with our night_ .

Nita sighs, then nods at the feline at their feet. “Lead the way,” she says, “we're right behind.”

The cat tweaks its whiskers. “Duly noted, this time” it says, then trots off in the direction of the nearest subway station. Reluctantly, they follow.

 

\---

 

To: McAllister, Darryl

From: Callahan, Juanita

 

Hey, Darryl! Bit of a random question, but did you by any chance think up some nicknames based on my middle name? Also, how's the mouth doing? Your tongue still numb?

 

\---

 

To: Callahan, Juanita

From: McAllister, Darryl

 

Hi! Yeah, that was me, how'd you know? :P I was trying to think up one based on Kit's middle name (Impossible! Got any ideas?), and wondered what yours was, so Ronan told me. Is that okay?

And I can't believe Kit told you about that. I'm gonna kill him.

 

\---

 

To: McAllister, Darryl

From: Callahan, Juanita

[Contains 1 attachment]

 

Lucky guess ;) And really?  _Ronan_ told you? Umm, yeah, I'm not a huge fan of the name. Stick to Miss Neets for now :)

Oh, he didn't just  _tell me_ . Check the attachment. Now you know what to put on your drivers license, when you get one!

 

\---

 

To: Callahan, Juanita

From: McAllister, Darryl

 

I'm gonna kill him twice,  _simultaneously_ . But yeah, Neets, I'll lay off the middle names for now, at least for you :) Thanks for letting me know.

 

\---

 

Nita smiles as she closes her manual, but she's no less confused. Darryl was one thing, but  _Ronan?_ The whole thing is making less sense the more she learns. She pushes the book away and pulls her cereal back in, brooding over the bowl before grabbing the spoon and picking up where she left off. 

Dairine wanders into the kitchen shortly after, scratching the back of her head and yawning. “Mornin',” she slurs.

“Good morning.”

“Cereal?”

“Yeah, tons.”

Dairine nods, clearly still working on auto-pilot as she grabs a bowl and spoon, then grabs the cereal box off the counter and pours herself a bowl. A few moments later, she's leaning against the counter, cereal bowl in hand, crunching away.

She looks at Nita. “How was date night?”

Nita throws her head back and groans around her own cereal. Dairine quirks an eyebrow. “That bad, huh?”

“No, it wasn't bad, just...” Nita raises her arms in a display of utter resignation. “We got called away again.”

Dairine's eyes go wide. “What, again? Didn't that happen last time, too?”

“And the time before that, _and_ the time before that.” Nita scowls down at her cereal. “It's getting to be a habit.”

“I'll say.” Dairine frowns at Nita. “What happened?”

Nita recounts the events of the previous day. It had turned out to be a simple enough misunderstanding. The gate programmer at the Crossings had been in training still, and they'd accidentally fudged the incoming gate coordinates, stranding an alien with a severe feline allergy in a feline-run Earth worldgate instead of one in the next galaxy over. When she finished telling her story, Dairine was shaking her head.

“It could've been a lot worse, you know.”

“I do know, and believe me everyone was grateful it wasn't. But still, there goes yet another date night down the toilet.”

Dairine hums around a mouthful, then swallows. “What did Kit think of the interruption?”

Nita shrugs. “He was cool about it, like always. You know him; 'never let them see you sweat' and all that.”

Dairine nods. “Is that who you were messaging in the manual just now?”

“No, that was Darryl. I had a question to ask him about my middle name.”

“Huh?”

“Apparently Carmela found out about it from him, so I asked to see where _he_ got it from, and he's saying it was Ronan who told him. Heaven knows how _Ronan_ got a hold of it.”

Dairine's eyebrows shoot up. “ _Ronan_ told him? You never told him your middle name, did you?”

“Nope.” Nita gets up to go put her empty cereal bowl in the dishwasher. Dairine nudges her, then hands Nita her own bowl, empty too now. “That was fast.”

“I was hungry. So have you asked Ronan about it yet?”

Nita shakes her head. “I'm about to though.”

Dairine nods. “Well, when you get a reply, tell me what he says. I'm kinda curious.”

Nita huffs, then turns back to her manual while Dairine wanders back upstairs. “You and me both.”

 

\--

 

To: Nolan, Ronan

From: Callahan, Juanita

 

Hey. How did you find out about my middle name?

 

\--

 

To: Callahan, Juanita

From: Nolan, Ronan

 

What, Louise? I overheard your sister's buddy Roshaun mention it. Him and Filif were talking about Earth-human naming conventions. Apparently he found your lack of surnames 'quaint' haha

What's it to you?

 

\--

 

To: Nolan, Ronan

From: Callahan, Juanita

 

You've got to be kidding me.

Trying to figure out how Carmela found out about it. I'm beginning to think I was better off not knowing. Thanks anyway. How's Paddyland?

 

\--

 

To: Callahan, Juanita

From: Nolan, Ronan

 

Where that girl's concerned, you're  _always_ better off not knowing. Glad I could help. And Paddyland is doing just fine, thanks. How's Yankville?

 

\--

 

To: Nolan, Ronan

From: Callahan, Juanita

 

Sweltering. And I wouldn't be too sure about that. Knowledge is power, after all.

 

\--

 

To: Callahan, Juanita

From: Nolan, Ronan

 

Too right you are. Feel free to send us some of that head at your leisure. We haven't broken 20 in a week and it hasn't stopped raining in nearly that long.

 

\--

 

To: Callahan, Juanita

From: Nolan, Ronan

 

*Heat. Sorry, autocorrect.

 

\--

 

To: Nolan, Ronan

From: Callahan, Juanita

 

The manuals don't have an autocorrect function, but nice try. Also, that's what she said.

 

\--

 

To: Callahan, Juanita

From: Nolan, Ronan

 

JUANITA LOUISE CALLAHAN DID YOU JUST MAKE A “THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID” JOKE

 

\--

 

To: Nolan, Ronan

From: Callahan, Juanita

 

XD

 

\---

 

“So, what's the news?”

“He got it from _Roshaun_.”

“No way.”

“I know! I'm beginning to think all of my friends are just screwing with me. It's unbelievable.”

“You said it. And it's also unverifiable.”

“Yeah, I noticed. I tried messaging Filif, cause he was there, apparently, but I haven't gotten an answer. I'm gonna ask Dairine and hope that she knows something about it.”

“Good idea.”

“Mmm. Wanna bet he'll have gotten it from, like, Mamvish or something?”

“Nahh, I don't think she and Roshaun ever actually met. My bet's on Memeki.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, it's the last person you'd suspect, which means--”

“That it's probably our best bet, yeah.” A groan. “I'd just give up, but now I'm _invested_.”

“I know what you mean. Well, keep me in the loop.”

“You got it. Dai, Kit.”

“Dai, Neets. We still on for this Friday?”

“Wild horses couldn't drag me away.”

“How romantic.” Nita couldn't see his face, but she could hear his grin.

“Eh, you know me, I'm nothing if not determined.”

 

\--

 

“Hey, Dair?”

Dairine is lying on her stomach on her bed, Spot in front of her, fingers dancing over the keys at a million miles an hour. She glances up Nita when she knockes without a seconds' pause in her typing.

“What?”

“Can I ask you a question—” Dairine opens her mouth to interrupt “— _after this one_?”

Dairine smirks. “Shoot,” she says, still with no break in her typing.

Nita walks over to her sister's desk and sits down in her computer chair. She takes a deep breath, trying for tact but sure she's going to miss it horribly. “Do you know how Roshaun could have found out about my middle name?”

_That_ gives Dairine pause. She looks up at Nita. “ _Roshaun?_ But I thought it was Ronan that told Darryl about it.”

“It was, but apparently _he_ got it from hearing Roshaun and Filif talk about it, and Filif's up to his crown on some assignment so I can't ask him, so I figured I'd ask you.”

Something flits across Dairine's face for a breath, then vanishes. She pushes herself up onto her knees, turning to face Nita fully. Spot whirrs, then his screen goes blank.

“What were they talking about, do you know?”

Nita shrugs. “Earth-human naming conventions, Ronan said. I guess he was using my name as an example. The only thing is that the manual doesn't even  _list_ my middle name—just the first initial. So how could he have gotten it?”

Dairine scowls. “If you're trying to suggest  _I—_ “

“No, no, not at all,” Nita says, placating, “I don't think it was you. I'm just hoping you can figure out who it _was_.”

Dairine sits quiet for a moment, deep in thought. Beside her, Spot sits inert. Then, she turns to look at him, her eyebrows raising. “But wouldn't they have the same permissions as the manual?”

Spot stays silent. Dairine frowns, pulls Spot into her lap and swipes at the trackpad to bring the screen back to life.

“What?”

“Just a second.”

Nita waits, swinging her legs a little in the chair. Dairine isn't typing or clicking, just watching something on Spot's screen, her eyes jumping back and forth as if she's reading something at sub-sonic speeds. Finally, she blinks and looks up.

“Uhh, so I think Spot figured out how Roshaun could have gotten access to your middle name if it wasn't in the manuals.”

Nita perks up. “How?”

“Remember when we went to see the Mobiles?”

Nita nods. “Well, apparently information not otherwise available in the manuals can be uploaded to any manual-analogue if it receives it from an 'authorized source'.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that, since I already know what your middle name is because you've told me, it would be in my manual if I asked for it. Same with Kit's probably. By telling a person you basically relinquish the rights to keeping it private in their manual.”

“Okaaay, but that still doesn't explain how _Roshaun_ got it. Or what your trip to the Motherboard has to do with anything.”

“When we got there, Spot and the Motherboard instantly synced up and did a massive data transfer. Mostly the Motherboard uploading stuff to Spot's hard drive. But there was a bit of information that the Motherboard got, including Louise, which it then passed on to the Aethyrs.”

“But you said _I_ had to tell someone for the information to be released. Spot's not an authorized source, is he?”

“Not on his own, but it wasn't sent through his manual functions. It was sent as a 'sensory experience' packet, and a second-hand one at that.”

Nita blinks, confused. Dairine sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose. “Right before we went to see the Mobiles, we were at Kit's place. While we were there, Spot did another data transfer with their entertainment system. Apparently in and among their 'sensory experiences', AKA everything they saw or heard, was a mention of your middle name.”

Nita sits silent for a moment, trying to wrap her brain around what her sister is telling her.

“So what you're saying is that Roshaun could see my middle name in his version of the Manual because Kit's TV overheard someone talk about it in his house, gave that information to Spot, who then gave it to the Motherboard, which then gave it to the Aethyrs?”

“Not just anyone. That person would still have to have authorization to release the information.”

“So, what, family?”

“Basically, yeah.”

Nita just shakes her head. “It must have been my Dad then, though why he would've been at the Rodriguez's talking about my middle name is beyond me.”

Dairine shrugs. “That's what the logs say.”

Nita nods. “I know, and thanks for looking into it for me. I feel like my brain's being wrung out, but thanks.”

“No problem,” Dairine says, then slides Spot back to the foot of her bed, flopping back down on her stomach and resuming her lighting-fast typing. Nita blinks, feeling dismissed, then gets up to leave. Wait till Kit hears about _this_.

 

\--

 

“You're kidding.”

“Nope.”

“It was your _Dad_ all along? What was he even doing at my place?”

“I don't know, and at this point I honestly don't care anymore. I can't very well blame my Dad for speaking my middle name aloud in the presence of your entertainment system, can I?”

“No, but don't you wanna keep digging? You've already come so far.”

“True...”

“C'mon, is he home right now?”

“Yeah, he's downstairs making dinner.”

“Go ask him! It won't hurt anything, anyway.”

“Except my psyche.”

 

\---

 

“Hey, Dad, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure sweetie, what do you need?”

“I was just wondering, have you been over to the Rodriguez's in the past month or two?”

“Well, yeah, hun. I went to go see if you'd left your presentation there, remember?”

Silence.

“Nita?”

“ _Oh. My. God._ ”

“Neets, what is it?”

 

\---

 

“Kit?”

“Did you ask him?”

“Kit, honestly, just kill me now.”

“What? What it is?”

“I can't believe I'd forgotten about the thumbdrive.”

“...The what?”

Nita's pacing in her room, her cell phone pressed to her face with one hand, the other hand tangled in her hair.

“Remember that history project I had to do for class? I came over to your house the night before it was due so you could help me with the presentation.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, when I got to school the next day I couldn't find my thumbdrive that had my powerpoint on it. I figured I might have left it at your place, and I would've just beamed over there, but class had already started. So I told my teacher, then called my Dad and asked him to run over there and check for me.”

Silence on the other end. Kit is either utterly lost or starting to see where this was going. “Turns out the stupid thing was just in the bottom of my book bag, but I guess he'd already gotten to your place by the time I called to let him know.”

“So what you're saying is—”

“I'm saying it was me, Kit. I caused my Dad to be there that day and mention my middle name to your mama. I'm the reason Carmela knows about Louise.”

Neither of them can speak for several moments. Then Kit clears his throat and says: “Well, at least the mystery's solved.”

Nita groans. “This is the worst moment of my entire life.”

“Really?” Kit asks. “The very worst?”

“The very worst.”

“...It is pretty bad. Carmela's never going to let you live this one down.”

“She'll never find out. How could she?”

Kit scoffs. “Neets, come on, how could you honestly say that after all this?”

Nita doesn't have an answer.

“You still on for Friday?”

“Oh, I'm on alright. I'm taking this as a personal slight against me by the Lone Power, and I intend to show It just what I think of Its tricks.”

Kit laughs. “You do that, Neets. Just remember—no magic.”

Nita smiles, just a bit. “Fine, but that means you have to do all the heavy lifting.”

Kit groans. “Oh God, not  _again_ .”

Nita smiles wider. “See you on Friday, Kit.”

Kit's smiling too, she can feel it. “It's a date.”

 

\---

 

FIN.

 

 


End file.
